


Surrender

by Verisimilitude



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dry Orgasm, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23551195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verisimilitude/pseuds/Verisimilitude
Summary: The room is dark and cool, a welcome contrast to Will's overheated skin.  He's sweating and the smooth, soft sheets of Hannibal's bed stick to his body, tangling around his limbs.  He feels so sensitised that the slide of the fabric against him is almost too much.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 208





	Surrender

The room is dark and cool, a welcome contrast to Will's overheated skin. He's sweating and the smooth, soft sheets of Hannibal's bed stick to his body, tangling around his limbs. He feels so sensitised that the slide of the fabric against him is almost too much.

Hannibal has spent God knows how long working Will open. He hasn't used fingers, or tongue or any of the toys that Will knows he has, just the fat, hot head of his cock, and so much lube that Will can feel it running down over his balls and pooling under his dick. He can feel the faint tremors run though his body as Hannibal moves, patient, controlled, not cruel, though he can be that too, but implacable, unmoved by Will's gasps and pleas. 

His strokes are slow and measured, each a fraction deeper than the last, forcing Will's body to open to him, prising him open in the same way that he digs into Will's thoughts and feelings. 

Will can't do anything but lie beneath him, pressed into the sheets by the weight of Hannibal above him, his long, strong fingers wrapped around Will's wrists, pinning him in place, as though Will would be able to even consider trying to get away from him. He can't move, can only draw in short, desperate breaths, can only feel the inexorable push of Hannibal inside him. He squirms weakly as Hannibal takes him, makes him feel every single inch of his possession.

Will lost the concept of time a while ago, and he's struggling to separate reality from fevered dreams, though he doesn't think he could ever imagine something like this, something so primal and shocking. He's adrift in sensation, nerves all over his body firing in new and terrifying ways. He doesn't know what scares him more, the thought that Hannibal might keep up this pace all night, or that he won't, and Will can't imagine anything beyond this, being suspended in this strange limbo of too much and not enough.

Another push, another wave of feeling, riding the edge of pleasure, making his dick jerk and leak underneath him, clearly not sharing his mind's doubts about whether Will can survive this night.

He feels split open, cracked in half like a walnut, his soul hollowed out to make room for Hannibal to take up residence there. He tries to ground himself as much as he can, trying to concentrate on the pressure of Hannibal's fingers, digging into his hips, their occasional flexing and the deep, low breathing in his ear the only signs that Hannibal is in any way affected by what he's doing to Will. Hannibal's chest presses against Will's back, and the contrast of rough hair on his back and soft cotton on his front makes him shiver. His whole world has narrowed down to the points where Hannibal's touching him, to the smell and sound of Hannibal around him. 

Hannibal finally presses in as far as he can go, hips tight against Will. He feels huge inside Will, bigger than normal, and Will feels stretched to the limit, feels as though Hannibal is shoving everything inside Will out of position so he can reach as far inside him as possible, until there's nothing left in Will but Hannibal.

The first stroke is equally slow. A long pull back, Hannibal's cock dragging against the inside of Will, smooth friction that he feels all the way to his toes, until he almost pulls all the way out, then the drive back in lights up everyone on Will's nerves, deeps, hard and dreadfully wonderful. Will feels raw in the best way, spread open, taken, nothing in his brain but how fucking good that feels and how much he needs to feel that again.

Hannibal doesn't speed up, but he fucks in as deep as he can with each stroke; root to tip. Will shudders, goosebumps breaking out over his skin, aching and wanting in equal measure. He breaks within a few strokes, desperate for Hannibal to go faster, needing the edge of rough to offset the overstimulation of this slow possession. 

“Please. Hannibal, please, oh God.”

Hannibal slides in once more, then holds there, hips moving small circles, keeping Will tense and wanting, as deep as he can be, deep enough that Will thinks he might go insane from it.

“Yes?” he asks

“Yes, god, please, yes.”

Hannibal's fingers flex, and against all odds, he braces his knees, forcing him even further into Will, pushing a garbled, desperate noise out of Will. Will doesn't get to catch his breath before Hannibal pulls back, and slams back in. 

The next stroke follows immediately, fast and hard and deep. Will pants, fingers wound so tightly in the sheets that they're cramping. Hannibal fucks him for a few _secondsminuteshours_ , then worms an arm under Will's chest, curling his hand up and around the ball of Will's shoulder. He abruptly sits back on his heels, pulling Will with him. Will shouts at the sudden movement, gravity pushing him down on Hannibal's cock. He struggles, body confused over whether what he's feeling is pleasure or pain, Hannibal wraps his other arm around Will's waist, keeping him back tight against Hannibal's chest, locking him place while he fucks up into Will like a fucking jackhammer, hard enough to make Will's teeth rattle and deep enough that Will thinks he'll feel him in his throat any second.

The instant Hannibal wraps his still slick hand around Will's cock, his orgasm blindsides him. He pants, maybe shouts, and definitely digs his nails into Hannibal's arm. He feels like it lasts longer than normal, leaving him stuck in a world where he isn't aware of anything but the clench of his and the sharp, painful tingles in his fingers and toes. His brain has nothing in it but white noise.

It takes him way too long to come back to himself and realise that Hannibal hasn't stopped fucking him, is still driving hard into Will's trembling body, fast and single-minded.

Will can't make his throat work at first, can't catch his breath and push the words past his lips. He's oversensitive, raw and edging into _toomuchstop_ and a thrill of fear runs down his spine, because Hannibal is showing no signs of stopping. He opens his mouth, but Hannibal slaps a hand over it, fingers gripping his face tightly, and Will can't make any sound but a muffled groan. Hannibal's other arm squeezes harder across Will's stomach, stopping Will's attempts to wriggle out of his hold, to get away from his incessant cock, still ramming into him, dragging roughly against his insides and catching his prostate more often then not, sending bolts of electricity through his tired body, painful and delightful at the same time.

He shivers, muscles twitching, and his skin tingles like touching your tongue to a battery. His heart jumps and his fear kicks up a notch when he feels the first flutter, deep inside, where Hannibal is battering a space for himself, that hints that he might come again. He isn't hard, and isn't likely to get hard again anytime soon, but that doesn't change the fact that he can feel the first tendrils tingling in his gut. He's come more than once in a night, but not for many years, and never so close to his first orgasm, and he's kinda scared but Hannibal seems to have fucked him past oversensitivity, and back into pleasure, and he can't help chasing the slowly surging crest of something that threatens to be viciously intense.

Another heavy strike inside him raises goosebumps over his whole body, and tightens the knot forming in his stomach. Hannibal's hand falls away from his mouth, and settles at his hip, pulling him down onto Hannibal's cock, and keeping him from squirming away.

“Hannibal, God. Fuck. Don't, stop, fuck, please, please, oh God.”

He can feel and hear the way his hoarse pleading makes Hannibal's breathing speed up, grunts escaping from what Will knows are clenched teeth. Hannibal's hips snap a little harder, a little faster, though Will has no idea how Hannibal can keep this up. He switches to shorter strokes, clearly intended to target Will's prostate as much as possible. 

He feels it coming this time, a slower, more powerful swell of sensation. He's terrified, suddenly that it's going to overwhelm and drown him, that he's going to finally lose his mind.

“No, no, Hannibal, I can't, please, stop, I can't.” He only half means it, can feel his body already straining for peak, even as his mind trembles, but he knows Hannibal isn't going to stop, knows that he doesn't really mean it.

If he thought his first orgasm was intense, it's nothing compared to the one that is bearing down on him. It breaks over him like a tidal wave, without either of them putting a hand on his cock, which jerks and twitches, though he doesn't spill anything. His whole body clenches, every muscle locking down tight and he forgets to breath. His cock jerks and twitches, though it's barely half hard, and he feels a single drop well up and slides down the side. He drops his head back onto Hannibal's shoulder his neck too weak to hold it up any longer, and though his eyes are open, he can't see anything but static, as if he's staring into an untuned TV.

When he finally stops shuddering, and his body begins to relax, he realises he's sobbing, dragging in huge lungfuls of air, hands holding Hannibal's arm so tightly his fingers have cramped, he's limp and wrung out. Hannibal must have come at some point while Will was lost, as he isn't moving any more, though he's still buried deep inside Will. The realisation that it's over makes Will sob again, this time in relief. The hand that Will isn't holding on to is running over Will's chest and sides in what he thinks is meant to be a soothing motion, but it just makes his skin quiver and crawl, and his muscles jump like they're being shocked. He isn't sure if Hannibal doesn't realise, or if he knows, but just enjoys the way Will flinches and cringes at the touches. 

Hannibal tips them gently onto their sides, his cock sliding wetly out of Will. Will is so tender he hiccups something between a gasp and a gulp at the feeling. If he could move, he'd curl into a ball until he stops shaking, but he can't move. He loses some more time, lying there, while Hannibal gently pets him, and he tries to remember how to breath normally and how his muscles work. He can hear Hannibal murmuring to him, but Will has no idea what he's saying, or if he's even talking in English. He lets himself drift on the familiar sound and cadence of Hannibal's speech, and lets it pull the fractured pieces of his mind back together.

He finally remember how to move, and turns his head slightly so that he can look at Hannibal out of the corner of his eye. Hannibal looks as unpolished and dishevelled as Will's ever seen him. His hair hangs in his face, damp with sweat, and there's a flush along his cheekbones, making them stand out even more than usual. He looks like he's run a marathon. Will wants to smack the smug look off his face, but he's too worn out to do it.

“What the fuck was that?” he slurs, tongue feeling thick and clumsy in his mouth.

Hannibal's lips quirk up at the corners and Will hates him, just a little.

“We, uh, we're going to do that again though?” He's sure that's not what he meant to say, and as he sees a devilish heat rise up behind Hannibal's dark eyes, he quickly adds “not too often, and not any time soon, but, maybe, later?”

Hannibal smiles, and Will feels his stomach lurch in a way that isn't entirely unpleasant.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by two separate prompts on the Hannibal Kink meme that I saw a long time ago. So long ago that I cannot now find those original prompt posts.


End file.
